


Oxygen and Flames

by TheProperLexicon



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Studying, anxiety attack, vampire lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProperLexicon/pseuds/TheProperLexicon
Summary: Simon needs help deciphering the Latin texts he got from a certain vampire. Baz thinks the girls who volunteered to help have something else on their minds. He decides to let Simon figure it out on his own, but he's not going in alone.





	Oxygen and Flames

**BAZ**

 

I’m reading on the couch when I hear him outside the front door. He’s breathing heavily, and I roll my eyes. _Mouth-breather_ , I think as I turn a page. His key slides into the lock and turns, then I hear him swear before the knob starts to turn. _What the hell is he doing?_ I arch an eyebrow, prepared to glare at him when he finally stumbles in the door. He finally succeeds in getting the door open, and promptly kicks it open the rest of the way. Thank Merlin Bunce installed that doorstopper behind it, otherwise she would have had another hole to repair when she got home.

He’s standing in the doorframe, his arms positively laden with books. Not the brightly colored college texts he usually jams into his backpack. He has those too, based on what I can see of his pack when he turns to kick the door shut again. These are old, and dusty. And old. Very old. Once the door is closed he turns to the living room and his eyes widen as he sees me sitting on the couch, staring at him. “Hey!” he says, and his perfect smile shines over the top of the stack. I feel my heart speed up and I have to fight the urge to smile back at him. “Ok, fine,” he continues, used to my judging stare. He crosses the few feet and spills the books that he’s juggling out on the coffee table between us. A few of them collide with my feet where they are crossed on the surface, something that never fails to annoy Bunce. I pull them back and I catch him swallow as I do. I knew I put on these black jeans for a reason. I smirk as I lean forward. There is a film of dust over the books and I wave my hand as though to swat it away.

“What is all of this, Snow?” I ask, reaching for one. I turn it over. The cover is green and the binding is all but deteriorated. I flip it open and I’m immediately confused. “Is this… Is this in Latin?” I ask, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Yup,” he replies, all smiles still. I feel my brow furrow. “They all are.” He gestures at the dozen or so books that are piled on our coffee table.

I lift another one without setting down the first. This one doesn’t even have a cover; it’s just paper. “Can you read even these?” I ask, because I’m nothing if not the sensible one.

He shrugs, and it’s adorable. “Not exactly,” he answers. I arch an eyebrow at him, I know he loves it and I see his nothing-special blue eyes deepen a bit at me.

 _Lovestruck fool_ , I think to myself, and I don’t know if I’m thinking of him or me.

“There’s two girls in our maths class that are studying Latin and they’ve offered to help,” he says simply. I feel my eyes narrow. “What?” he asks.

“Margorie and Tatiana?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light. I know I fail at it, but really. _Them?_ He nods. “Of course, they offered to help,” I burst out, and I suddenly can’t keep the tone of my voice light. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ “They’ve been flirting with you for months, now!” _Oh, no._ I think. _Oh, no. I’m jealous._ Fortunately, Snow hasn’t picked up on it yet. He’s just as oblivious as ever, thank Merlin. I have to change the subject, but all I can think about is how Margorie bats her eyes at him whenever he leans over to ask her a question.

“What?” he asks, his brow furrowing perfectly. His nose wrinkles when he’s confused and I want to kiss it. But he’s around the table, and there’s all these stupid books here, and what the hell is he up to? “No, they haven’t. I would know.”

“Oh,” I snort. “You would know, huh? You? Who had no idea I was in love with you for years? Who had no idea I was gay, even though you followed me around for a solid two years.” I pointed at him. “Those girls are trying to seduce you.”

He rolls his eyes at me and I fight the urge to laugh. He’s really quite terrible at looking annoyed, his lips drop open and the skin around his eyes wrinkles. It’s like when a puppy tries to be ferocious, but you just want to pick them up and snuggle them. Yes, that’s exactly what it’s like. Snow is a puppy that I want to snuggle, all golden curls and spots and warm kisses. “They’re just helping me,” he argues, pouting.

I roll my eyes and wave my hand. I’m not going to win this one here, now. But I will, sooner or later. He’ll realize I’m right. And then I’ll get him to make it up to me. Yes, that’s an excellent idea. “Fine,” I concede. “But I warned you. Remember that.” He sighs, bringing his hands up to his hips. “What is this project that they’re helping you with, and why are these books all over the table?”

“Oh!” he exclaims, as though he’s forgotten. His eyes light up and his smile brightens, and I’m falling head over heels all over again. He’s that same sunshine boy I fell for when we were eleven. “I’m going to do research on vampires!” My heart stutters and for a second, I think I misheard him, but he’s grinning at me and I know I haven’t. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I blink at him. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell them you were one.” He adds this like that’s what I was worried about, like they would believe him. Like they wouldn’t have called the sanitorium on him.

“You can’t do research on vampires,” I reply as calmly as I can. “The lore is too diluted. It’s too rooted in pop culture now.”

But he shakes his head and his curls fall across his forehead artfully. I want to run my hand through them and kiss him senseless; or kiss some sense into him, I suppose. “Nope!” His voice is bright and loud, I’m just staring. “These books are ancient! They’re as old as the lore itself. I’m gonna get so much from them!”

I look down at the books and stare for a moment. He’s right. They are ancient. And falling apart. There’s mold on some of them. I frown. He didn’t get these from the library at university. He didn’t get them from the bookshop down the street, either. “Snow,” I say carefully, my tone measured. “Where did you find these books?” When I look back up at him, I know my eyes are dark. I know I’ve tensed. I know because he’s watching me warily now. He shrugs. I scowl.

Half his sentences are shrugs, and I’ve learned to read them as well as anyone. He doesn’t want to answer, but he will. Because he can’t help himself. It’s like when he had magic. It wells up inside him and it has to spill out somewhere. “I got them from Nicodermus,” he whispers, as though saying it softly will change my reaction.

 _“YOU GOT THEM WHERE?”_ I roar. I don’t mean to, but I do. I roar it. It’s the only word for the sound that comes from my throat. I didn’t even know I could make a noise like that. His eyes widen and he tenses. Immediately, I feel remorse. I never want to scare him, but right now I’m petrified. The thought of him being in contact with a vampire like Nicodermus, even for something as simple as books. My chest hurts, I feel like the room is spinning and I take a deep breath to steady myself. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, lifting my hand up to rub the skin over my heart. It’s thundering in my chest. I’m still dizzy. I have to sit down. I reach my other hand behind me to feel for the sofa as I sink down. It’s hard to get a breath, and my chest really hurts. There’s dancing light at the edges of my vision too, when did that happen? I feel something burning on my arm and I look at it, thinking that I’m on fire. But it’s Snow’s hand on my bicep. He’s holding on tight. I still can’t breathe. He’s so warm. I mean, he’s normally warm, but this is abnormally so. Is he sick? My chest tightens.

“Baz,” he whispers as he helps me sink into the couch. “Baz, you’re so cold.”

“I’m…” I take a breath, I can’t get a good one. “I’m… Always… Cold…” Every word hurts. I can’t see the whole room any more, my vision is tunneling. What the hell is happening to me?

I hear Snow’s voice again, but he’s not talking to me. He’s talking to someone else. I can’t see anyone else, I can’t even see Snow. He’s in that weird blind spot on my left. I still can’t get a breath. I think I might pass out. Then, his arms are around me and he’s so bloody warm I think I might combust. His hands are on my back, rubbing down from my shoulders to the small of my back and traveling the return immediately. The buzzing in my ears dulls, and I can hear him. He’s mumbling something, no… He’s mumbling multiple somethings. Telling me that it’s ok, and that I’m safe. Just hearing his voice in my ear is enough to push back some of the darkness. _He’s here. He’s safe. Nicodermus didn’t hurt him. He has his stupid books. He’s here. He’s safe. He’s with me. His arms are around me. He’s here. He’s safe._

When the darkness recedes enough that I can see the room again, and I’ve taken a few deep breaths, he pulls back. His hands are on my shoulders and he’s looking at me with wide, terrified, blue eyes. “Hey,” he whispers, and his lips are inches from mine. “Welcome back.” I lean in and press my lips to his in a bruising kiss. I know he isn’t expecting it because he tenses for a moment before he relaxes into me, pulling me against him. _He’s here. He’s safe._ It’s a mantra in my head. When I finally pull back, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright. “Well,” he sighs, a smile in place. “If all of your anxiety attacks end like that, I will gladly be here for every one of them.”

“Anxiety attack?” I ask, my voice is sore. My throat aches, and I wonder if I was crying. “Is that what happened?” He nods. “That was awful.”

“Yup. They are,” Snow murmurs, running his hands down my arms soothingly. He used to have anxiety attacks after everything that happened with the Mage, and I was the one that would hold him like he was holding me right now. It wasn’t so great from that end, either. “I’m guessing it had something to do with, uh… The vampire who shall not be named…” He says, though I can tell he’s worried about bringing it up again. I nod. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I didn’t meet up with him at all. He left the books for me at a shop over in Kensington.”

“What?” I ask, leaning back. For the first time in a long time, it feels good to have the cool air on my face. Normally I would live in Snow’s heat, but after that… I need the cold. I promise myself never to pull myself away from him if he ever has an anxiety attack again. “Why would he do that?”

Snow shrugs again, but he answers immediately. “I reached out to him, via text. No face-to-face. Fiona had his old number, and it still worked. I told him I wanted to know more about you, and your kind. He offered books.” He gestures to where they are still spread out on the table beside us. “I figure, we can try to figure out why you’re aging, when none of the others do. And why you can go out in the sun, when none of the others can. And why you can eat regular food-”

“Like none of the others can. I get it,” I reply. Now that I know the reason, it makes sense. It’s actually quite sweet. They’re all things I’ve wondered about at one point or another, but never had the means to find out. My parents never liked to be reminded of my _condition_. And I certainly couldn’t have researched it at Watford with Snow following me around everywhere, trying to prove I was one. “Ok. I’m in. Let’s do this.” I rub my hands on my jeans and closed my eyes. “Tomorrow. Let’s do this tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”

He nods, a small smile on his lips. They’re still pink from my kiss and I find myself overwhelmed with the urge to do it again. Before I can, he leans in and takes a kiss from me, instead. “How about… I order some take out and we snuggle in bed with our to-go containers and watch that documentary on Beethoven that you have saved on our Netflix queue?”

I fight the urge to smile. He hates my documentaries, and I know he does. But when I’ve had a bad day, or I’m particularly broody, he’ll watch one with me. He’s being soft, and soft Simon is my favorite Simon. “That sounds perfect,” I whisper. “You’re perfect.” He nods like he knows it, and he probably does. I tell him often enough. He may be an idiot, but he’s my idiot. And he’s perfect. I lean forward and kiss him again, finally cool enough to welcome his warmth once more. _Take-out orders can wait_ , I think to myself as I lift my hand and run it through his curls. _Because, right now, I’m kissing Simon Snow._

**SIMON**

 

Baz told me I could use his cubicle at the library for my study meet up with the girls. He’s here, too, but he’s in the main library with his headphones on. I’m watching him through the glass panel on the door and I know he knows, because occasionally he lifts his gaze and smirks at me. Margorie and Tatiana are both blonde, and Baz has been one to say that he doubts it’s natural. I, frankly, don’t care if they dye their hair. Margorie is taller than Tatiana, but only by an inch or two. They’re both shorter than me, which is unusual for my friends. Penny is my height exactly, and Baz… Well, Baz is three inches taller than me on a good day.

I’m sitting opposite them in his cube, and the door is closed so that we can talk freely without disturbing anyone. They’re working out one of the passages in the book in front of them, and so far, they haven’t discerned what we’re looking at. I wonder if they will, or if they’ll just think it’s a language barrier.

All of it seems to be going well enough, I’m taking notes from what they’ve translated so far and for now it seems to be origin stuff. Then, Margorie gets to a passage and pauses. She runs her finger over the dingy page again, and then a third time. “Uh, Simon,” she asks, lifting her gaze to me.

“Hm?” I murmur, finishing my note and looking up at her.

“Is this… Is this vampire lore?” she asks, and my eyes widen.

“Uh, well, uh. Yeah. I guess it is,” I fumble, searching for an explanation that doesn’t scream _my boyfriend is vamp and I’m trying to figure out why he ages_. “It’s, uh, for a book. Er, uh, a paper. On the creation of monsters in common folklore.” _There it is_ , I think triumphantly. I’m not even sure what I said, but it sounds smart. She blinks at me for a moment, and I think maybe she doesn’t believe me. Then, her eyes soften and I feel a shiver of familiarity run up my spine. I pull my head back and blink, trying to figure out why the expression looks so familiar, but not on her.

She reaches her hand across the table and places it on mine. My eyes widen and my gaze snaps to where her fingers have gripped me. “That’s so interesting,” she breathes and suddenly I realize why that expression looks so familiar. It’s the same one that Baz gets when we’re being soft with each other, when he wants to lean across and kiss me. I’ve seen it hundreds of times, on his face. I snap my eyes up to where he’s sitting at the table outside in the main library. He’s watching us with barely disguised glee and I flash back to the day earlier, before I told him where I got the books. Before the panic attack. He told me they had been flirting, but I was oblivious. Just as he had said. And now he was gloating. Laughing at me silently from across the room. Well, fine. If he wanted to play this game, then I’d play.

I reached out and dropped my hand on top of Margorie’s, leaning across the table just a little. Not enough to give her any ideas, but just enough to whisper. “I know,” I say, softly, tilting my face so that Baz can’t read my lips. “My boyfriend is obsessed with vampires, so I figured I should learn what I could.” I see the realization sink in and for a moment I feel bad, but really? Baz and I have been openly dating for over a year and a half at this point. We hold hands walking across campus. We kiss under trees while we eat our lunch. If she didn’t know, she clearly hasn’t been paying attention. Not unlike me, apparently.

All of this happens in a flash, and then the door is opening. I turn toward it, feigning surprise. Baz is standing there in his dark slacks and that purple button down I love so much. He’s got a cardigan on over it and he looks good enough to lick. I smile up at him. “Oh, hey, Baz,” I say, tilting my head and licking my lips. “I was just telling the girls about you.”

“Oh, really,” he says haughtily, and I catch a flicker of emotion before he throws his mask up. I nod. “Well, that’s nice. But it’s time to go, Snow.” He gestures behind him.

“I’m still studying,” I pout, recognizing the tone. It’s the same tone I got when he told me to leave with Agatha and Penny after our first night together. It’s the same tone he gives me when I spend all day playing video games instead of snuggling with him. It’s his jealous tone.

“Then I suppose I’ll go home without you,” he continues, arching an eyebrow. I’m on thin ice, but I love it. He thinks he has the “insufferable git” market cornered, does he? Well, he has no idea what he’s in for.

“Fine by me,” I retort. “I’ll hang out with the girls a bit longer.” I turn back to where Margorie and Tatiana are watching us like we’re a frivolous television show. Margorie seems to have gotten over my rebuff in favor of the drama unfolding in front of her. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him switch his weight from one foot to the other. Fidgetty Baz is always adorable, when he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He’s rarely ever unsure of himself, and if he is, he never shows it. But I can tell he’s running through a million scenarios in his head, trying to sort out which one ends with me leaving with him. I can think of quite a few since that’s where I want to be anyway. But I’m enjoying the tension as he goes through them.

Then, as if he’s chosen a path, he takes two long strides across the room and stops beside my chair. He bends at the waist, puts both his hands in my hair and tilts my face up to capture my lips. Of all the scenarios he could have gone with, this one is my favorite and I’m glad he chose it. I lean into him, enjoying the cool feel of him against me. When it feels like the kiss has gone on forever he pulls back a few centimeters and I’m looking up at those grey eyes I can lose myself in. “Come home, Snow,” he whispers.

I nod, fighting a smile. “All you had to do was ask, Pitch,” I murmur and he rolls his eyes. “Help me with my books?”

“What am I, your servant?” Baz asks, straightening up to his full height.

“No,” I retort. “You’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to help me with my books.” Baz rolls his eyes but reaches out and picks up a few, his gaze slides over Margorie and Tatiana. “Ladies, this is Baz. Baz, these are my friends Margorie and Tatiana.”

“Pleasure,” Tatiana purrs and I swing my gaze to where Baz is standing, staring at her. “So, are you two… Exclusive?”

“Uh,” Baz says, drawing the word out as he cuts a glance to me.

“Oh, yeah. For sure. One hundred percent,” I reply, feeling my own surge of jealousy bubble up. We have the books in our arms. “Well, ladies. Thanks for the help. I think I got what I needed.”

“But we haven’t translated even half of them,” Margorie argues.

I hold up my hand. “Nope,” I say. “You’ve done plenty. I’ll… Uh, I’ll do the rest myself.”

“You don’t speak Latin!” Tatiana impresses as Baz and I head for the door.

I reach out with my free hand and grab the knob to pull it closed. “I’ll learn!” I seal them into the cubicle and turn back to where Baz is waiting for me. He’s laughing at me again, his eyes dancing in his face. “What?” I scowl.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he whispers, aware that we’re out in the main library again. “Learn anything?”

“I learned that you’re sexy as hell when you’re jealous,” I retort.

“I wasn’t jealous,” he mumbles, turning away. I hurry to catch up with him, but his legs are longer and I have to run when he’s in a mood like this. “I just didn’t like the way you were looking at her.”

“Sooooooo, jealous?” I ask, bumping him with my shoulder. He smirks at me. “Come on,” I coax. “You can admit it.” He scowls now, and I nudge him again. “You know I only love you, right? Why else would I be doing all this?” I shrug my shoulders to emphasize the books I’m carrying.

“Did you find anything out?” he asks, as we step through the doors and into the overcast day. His car is parked just outside the library entrance, one of the few there.

He pops the trunk and we set the books inside. “Nothing yet, but I’ll keep looking.” He nods, sliding into the driver’s seat. I slide in on the opposite side and look at him. He reaches for the gear shift and I put a hand on it. “What if I can’t find anything? Will you be disappointed?”

He looks at me, and I see that liquid silver in his eyes that I love so very much. He shakes his head. “No,” he answers, reaching up a hand to cup my cheek. He’s cool and I’m warm and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “I don’t need to know about my past,” he continues. “As long as you’re my future.”

I stare at him for a long second, my jaw slack. Then, I lean forward and he meets me halfway. Just before our lips meet, I whisper, “That was damn good, Baz.” He grins wickedly at me, then I’m kissing him. I’m kissing him like we’re in the woods surrounded by fire and he’s the only one who can save us. I’m kissing him like I always kiss him. Like he’s oxygen, and I’m the flame.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one! Feel free to stop by my other Carry On fics, if you like the style!


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